


Fight or Flight

by Cami1313



Series: Holmes is Where the Heart is [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: (WARNING), Angst, BossMan Lestrade, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of terrorist acts and terrorism, Mycroft IS the British Government, Violence, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-06-15 15:09:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15415683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cami1313/pseuds/Cami1313
Summary: Mycroft has to deal with the aftermath of Johns’ death.Sherlock is unconsolable. Mrs Hudson is beside herself. John’s sister is a nuisance. And Gregory, well, Gregory is angry.The British military service is in for a world of pain.Mycroft himself is confused. Add Greg Lestrade to the mix and well, things aren’t going to be boring.





	1. Start Again

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya,
> 
> Back again, this time with Mycroft and Greg.  
> I tried to weave some of their story into my other fic so this wouldnt feel out of place as this will take place in the same world. The events of the last fic carry over to this one. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Enjoy. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft was tired.  
> He’s been awake almost 72 hours since John’s death.  
> His brother had been yelling at him down the phone or not speaking at all.  
> Mrs Hudson was sobbing. Mycroft’s parents were sobbing. Molly was sobbing.  
> Harriet Watson was a nuisance.  
> Detective Chief Inspector Lestrade was furious.  
> Anthrea wouldn’t stop making tea. And Mycroft, Mycroft was just tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi All :) 
> 
> I’m sorry I’ve been away but I’ve been sooooo stressed and busy af but I’ve quit uni again so yay, more time for writing. I’m hoping to update once a month now and whatever I write in that time will get posted whether it be 1 chapter or 10. Depends on life ya know.

Mycroft was tired.  
He’s been awake almost 72 hours since John’s death.   
His brother had been yelling at him down the phone or not speaking at all.   
Mrs Hudson was sobbing. Mycroft’s parents were sobbing. Molly was sobbing.   
Harriet Watson was a nuisance.   
Detective Chief Inspector Lestrade was furious.   
Anthrea wouldn’t stop making tea. And Mycroft, Mycroft was just tired.

 

                                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

  
It had honestly been the most stressful three days Mycroft had ever endured. He had been taking calls all day and siting in on meetings he would normally send Anthea to. This was becoming one of the most frustrating and difficult ‘situations’ Mycroft had ever dealt with. The last was in 2005 and his evaluation skills for those types of events made him a very important asset from then onwards.

To make matters worse someone had leaked the ambush to the press and due to Sherlock and John’s minor celebrity status things had been increasingly difficult. Sherlock and Mrs Hudson had to deal with citizens placing floral arrangements at their door. Mycroft had them removed whenever they built up under the guise of safety for pedestrians who walked past. He’d luckily been able to stop Sherlock the first day, who had been about to set them alight.

His brother was not dealing with things very well. Which was to be expected.

Additionally, he and John had ‘altered’ the paperwork for Johns’ next of kin. So the British army thought John Watson was married. He ‘had’ previously been married. Mycroft has just changed the name and gender of his spouse. To Sherlock.

So when Harriet Watson found about her brother from the paper she was furious, understandably. Mycroft had completely forgotten about her, very unlike himself. After she stormed into Baker Street and yelled at Sherlock, she stormed down to Mycroft’s office. Luckily it wasn’t the Diogenes as she almost yelled the place down.

She had then sat with Mycroft and they had a very heated discussion about what had happened and whether they would be having a funeral or memorial at all. Harriet was against it because, ‘Missing in action doesn’t mean dead’ and Mycroft had relented and organised to meet with her the following week, Sherlock in tow, to negotiate.

That was, if Sherlock would leave the flat. He hadn’t left the flat in three days. Mrs Hudson had to let Mycroft in as Sherlock had locked the door in an attempt to keep everyone out. Mrs Hudson said he’d either been very quiet or playing his violin, very loudly, at nighttime and was refusing to eat.

  
Mycroft didn’t know what to do about his brother. They didn’t really talk about feelings and he doubted allowing his parents to return to Baker Street would help. Sherlock wanted to be alone, even turning down cases from Lestrade. Gregory had been to the flat every day. Cold cases piling up on the dinning table and he would stay and make Sherlock some lunch and tea, Sherlock wouldn’t eat it, but Lestrade was making an effort.

Other than Mycroft’s call to inform Gregory of Johns’ predicament, they hadn’t spoken. Why would they? They weren’t friends. After Christmas and the few times they’ve seen each other at social gatherings Mycroft had hoped, which he rarely let himself do, that they had moved to friendship at least. But nevertheless, Mycroft didn’t have time to think about or dwell on his ‘interest’ with the Detective Chief Inspector.

He had meetings with the Syrian ambassador, several parliament members and General Northam tommorow. Add to Mycroft’s list of things to deal with, Her Majesty has also requested an audience,

Mycroft honestly didn’t know how he was going to get through all of this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeh, so I know we’re not off to a great start but I was hoping to do some quick background and some establishing characters and motives and such in the first couple of chapters. I promise it will pick up soon, I’m not going to make you wait for the good stuff in this fic like I did with my first. Xoxoxo


	2. Chapter 2.

Shutting his door, Greg walked to his desk and almost collapsed in his chair. He wasn’t angry anymore. He had been. For the past few days. Angry at who, he could not say. The military, Sherlock, Mycroft, himself, even John.

The bloody bastard had just sorted his life out and went and got ambushed. Stupid idiot.

Sighing, Greg loosened his tie. It wasn’t John’s fault. He knew that. But he didn’t know what else to do. Didn’t know who else to blame. The Syrian government maybe, for letting terrorist kill soldiers that were sent there to protect them. Greg honestly didn’t know.

  
Sighing again he reached for the file on the top of the stack. It was nearly five and with the stack of paperwork and forms on his desk, he wouldn’t be leaving for another coupe of hours so he didn’t have to come back in on his day off.

With his promotion into Detective Chief Inspector, Greg now only had one full weekend a month off and since he started the job two months again he hadn’t taken his extra day. He was trying to make a good impression and to catch up on all the paperwork. The new job was more of an administrative office role instead of hands on at crime scenes and he was now the DCI of the Criminal Investigation Department so he oversaw all sorts of criminal investigations.  
He still went to crime scenes but he just had to make sure the crime scene was secure and sign off on any paper work Donovan and the new DI needed. He also left the investigating and interrogating to them, he did miss the footwork occasionally but he had to face the reality that he was getting older and soon he would not be able to chase after the criminal like he had before. So this promotion was better for him. He did have to appear in court more often to present evidence against people they arrested but with the extra money from his paycheque he has been able to buy a new suit and a few bits and pieces he had wanted for his flat. The press conferences were even less fun now because if any team in the CID buggered anything up he, being the senior officer, was held accountable to the people.

Sometimes he envied Mycroft, being able to work behind the scenes in the shadows. Being all mysterious and sexy. Shit. No. No thinking about Mr Unattainable. Paperwork. That’s what he was doing. Signing search warrants and reading arrest reports. Donovan’s name was on a lot of these and Greg felt a bit proud that with her promotion she has stepped up and was doing, frankly, great work. The new DI however, Franklin, was taking a while to get into the swing of things.

Looking at the clock on his wall he had been there for almost two hours and only has two more forms to fill in. He’ll pick up so takeaway on the way home and drop some off for Sherlock, not that he’ll eat it, but it makes Greg feel like he’s doing something.

 

Clearing his desk and picking up his satchel, he grabs some of the case files that he needs to look over before Monday, a couple of cold cases for Sherlock and locks up. Theres only the night staff in and Jenna from the front desk says goodnight as he leaves.

  
He does grab some take away and heads to Baker Street. Sherlock might not be happy to see him but Mrs Hudson is and tries to lure him into her flat with tea and biscuits but he insists he’s just there to drop food off for Sherlock. Sherlock is just lying on the sofa staring at the ceiling and refuses to acknowledge him. He tells Sherlock where the food is and leaves the cold cases on his desk with the previous ones. There appears to be one that has been solved. Greg smiles and takes the case file. One is better than none. He says goodbye to Sherlock and Mrs Hudson on his way out.

When he closes the door to 221B, a sleek black car pulls up and a door opens. His heart skips a beat as he watches a figure emerge. His heart deflates a little when he sees it’s only Anthea, but he accepts her offer of a lift home. She apparently was in the area and Mr Holmes wishes to show his gratitude for the care Greg consistently shows to his younger brother. Greg wishes Mycroft was here himself but he isn’t so he thanks Anthea and unlocks his front door when he arrives home.

  
He eats his takeaway in silence and then just heads to bed. He thinks about John. Whether John is truely still alive. He hopes so. Greg’s only had a few friends like John and he really doesn’t want to loose another one. Miserable and heartbroken Sherlock is worse than high and erratic Sherlock. Greg doesn’t know how to fix this, he can’t. He hopes Mycroft will find a way. To at least help Sherlock find peace if a body is recovered. God that thought makes Greg sick.

He hopes to any God or all of them, if there is one, that a miracle will happen. That John will return to them as Sherlock did.

Greg can only hold on to hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greg is so fun to write, I hope you guys like my characterisation of him. :)


	3. Chapter 3.

After his meeting with Her Majesty, she wanted an evaluation of the likelihood of a terrorise attack, Mycroft has gone straight into a meeting with the Syrian ambassador and the Turkish minister. Statistically a terrorist attack was more likely to occur within two weeks to two months of a ambush or British death on foreign soil due to the likelihood of capture and extraction of information.

They were debating whether the British government had a right to enter the country to retrieve the bodies or whether they wait until the Syrian government will release them.

The negotiations with Syrian ambassador Kareshi was arduous at the very least and Mycroft’s patience was wearing thin. The ambassador was being difficult and purposely vague, as if to make Mycroft give up. The ambassador apparently didn’t realise he was dealing with Mycroft Holmes. Mycroft had patience and nerves of steal and the ambassador was in for a long day of questions.

They argued for hours and finally agreed that Mycroft could ready a team, stationed in Turkey and have them enter the country for extraction at the end of the month. Two weeks. Mycroft could barely wait but it was the longest he could allow. The ambassador was just pretending he had any say in the matter, the government no longer had control over their country, the radical extremist group was really in charge.

Sherlock wouldn’t be happy. When he had spoken to Mycroft he had demanded proof, a body or his dogs tags. Mycroft did have a surveillance team stationed in Turkey, that was the closest non-military personnel could get to the Syrian conflict, and they had been stationed there even before John went over.

Despite what the Syrian ambassador thought, the Turkish minister was on Mycroft side. They had been very helpful in the last few years since Mycroft had helped them out of a tight spot, so they were on the same team.

...........

When Mycroft left the room Anthea was waiting for him, taping on her phone as always. Mycroft updated Anthea In the car ride back to the office. She arranged more meetings for the next day.

When they reached his office, one of his armed guards was waiting. The door to his office had been forced open and the offender was waiting inside.

Mycroft handed his coat to Anthea and went in to confront the intruder. The culprit was lounged in his chair and had made himself at home.

“Brother mine. You could have just called.”  
Mycroft walked over to his desk.

Sherlock just looked at him with distain, leaving Mycroft’s chair and walking to the window.  
“Then I wouldn’t be able to yell at your face. Which is the only source of entertainment I have these days.”  
Sherlock’s face remained passive as he stared down his brother.

Mycroft sighed. “What is it that you wish to yell at me about Sherlock, I have a conference call with the Japanese Prime Minister soon.” The call was tommorow, he lied, but he wanted Sherlock out of there as fast as possible.

“Well before I begin to yell I was hoping you had some news for me. In regards to John.”

Mycroft sighed, sitting down in his chair.  
“I’ll know more in a few weeks Sherlock. After my team collects the body.”  
It hurt Mycroft to talk about John this way. He considered John a friend, and of that he didn’t have many, and being so cold and detached about this situation was the only way he knew how to deal with it.

Sherlock fixed him with a glare.

“That’s not good enough.”  
“It’s all I am able to do at the moment Sherlock, I will keep trying.”  
“Try harder.”  
“It’s not that simple Sherlock.”  
Sherlock rolls his eyes, “What’s the point of you if you can’t do your job. Diplomatic affairs, isn’t that what it says on your pay stub? Not very good at it if you ask me.”  
“Nobody asked you Sherlock.”

Mycroft was starting to get annoyed, he didn’t have time for petty arguments with his childish brother. Sherlock had made good on his promise to yell at him because they were both starting to raise their voices.

“Well this concerns someone of importance to me Mycroft and for once I thought you could be a decent brother and try your hardest to help me get closure. But apparently I’m not important enough to you for you to actually care, I’m sorry I bothered you.”  
Mycroft sighed, “Sherlock honestly I’m trying my best, I do care, about you and John, but other than a covert mission into the country without permission, which can cause many problems, there isn’t anything I can do.”

Sherlock looks at him with anger, “Why don’t you do that Mycroft. Why do you have to baby other countries because they’re ‘in a state of war.’ Frankly it’s their own fault so you should take advantage of their lax in security.”

  
Mycroft was starting to get frustrated. And Sherlock was beginning to get angrier.

This wouldn’t be over anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My poor heartbroken Sherlock :(
> 
> Big Bro Mycroft is just trying to protect you. 
> 
> Next chapter will pick up the pace. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. :) xoxo


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED
> 
> Hi :)
> 
> I’m having so much trouble writing the end of this chapter so I’ve decided to split it up into two different scenes. I always have problems with “those” scenes but I’m hoping to smash it out and have it up by next week so here’s the first chapter for now and will add the second soon as.  
> Thanks, enjoy. ;)

Greg always feels anxious when he comes to Mycroft’s office. He never knows if he’s going to be scolded or praised. 

 

Mycroft is one of the only people, probably the only person if truth be told, that Greg feels intimidated around. Even his direct supervisors have always seemed approachable and although Sherlock’s intelligence made him feel a bit inadequate at the beginning, he generally doesn’t feel intimated by him anymore.

 

But Mycroft, Mycroft was a different story. His whole presence screamed conviction, power and elegance. It’s why Greg feels so drawn to this man, when he first met Mycroft he was annoyed at his pompousness and arrogance but the more time he spends in Mycroft’s company the more he learns that he’s meant to feel intimidated buy him. That’s his job, to maintain control of any situation and manipulate it however he wants.

 

When John arrived on the scene, Greg was getting ‘kidnapped’ weekly by Mycroft for updates on him and Sherlock. Eventually Greg managed to argue with him into only having a meeting every fortnight and to not kidnap him. If Greg was truthful he had started to look forward to those late Friday afternoons spent in Mycroft’s office with the enigma of a man. Even while he was still married, Sharon’s suspicions had been correct, he enjoyed Mucroft’s company and wanted to spend time with him. But Greg was a faithful man and would never act on his feelings while he was in a committed relationship, the same could not be said for Sharon.

 

This time was different, usually it was mostly business, but lately Greg felt like there was more to it. Mycroft had meddled at Christmas and he was pretty sure he had had words with his superiors about his promotion. Christmas time had been so odd. Mycroft had seemed softer, more open, even outrightly friendly to Greg. He thought maybe he had relaxed a bit now that Sherlock was comfortable. He thought something had changed, shifted, that Mycroft had wanted to be friends. Greg hoped it was going to be more than that, but he made sure not to get ahead of himself.

 

The lift opened up and he walked over to Anthea’s desk. Anthea actually raises her head from the computer and gave him a sympathetic smile.

 

“Detective Chief Inspector, I’m very sorry about Doctor Watson, I know the two of you were good friends. Mr Holmes is currently in with his brother, they’re, how to say this, indisposed at the moment.”

 

Almost exactly after she spoke, a loud crash echoed from the room, followed by “SHERLOCK HOLMES!”

 

Greg and Anthea exchanged a look and then suddenly the door was thrown open and Sherlock emerged. Sherlock stormed out of the room and yelled back at his brother, “Bugger off Mycroft.”

 

Sherlock grabbed his belstaff and tossed it on over his pjs, apparently he hadn’t bothered to dress before leaving the flat, and headed for the lift.

 

Greg called out to him as Sherlock stepped in, but Sherlock just looked straight past him to Mycroft who stood in the doorway of his office. “He’s all yours Lestrade.” The doors closed and Greg heard Mycroft sigh.

 

Greg headed over to him, “You alright mate?”

Mycroft looked surprised at being addressed this way and was apparently too tired to hide his expression. He motioned for Greg to follow him into his office closing the door behind him.

 

“I shall endure, Detective Chief Inspector.”

Greg huffed a laugh, “I think you should skip the formalities, it was bad before but now it’s just to much of a mouthful.”

 

Mycroft gave him an odd look before motioning for him to sit.

“Greg is fine.” He sits, looking around the room and narrows in towards what looked like a statuette shattered in the far corner. That’s what must have broken when Sherlock was here.

 

“Would you care for a drink Detective, I mean, Gregory?” Pouring himself a drink from the stand near the window, “I am officially off the clock but I will be here for sometime, it takes the edge off after a challenging day.”

 

It had been a long time since someone called him Gregory and it felt odd hearing it, which is why he gave Mycroft a really weird look but nodded.

 

After handing Greg his drink, who took an immediate swig, Mycroft returned to his chair but shed his suit jacket before sitting. Greg tried not to stare, he had never seen Mycroft without every single piece of his suit on and never a single button out of place. Mycroft apparently noticed his staring and cleared his throat, “I apologise for the informality Gregory, I have had a long and stressful day.”

 

Greg was confused, “No that’s fine Mycroft, it’s your office. Take off as many pieces of clothing off as you want, I don’t mind.” Mycroft’s face was also confused and a bit of pink tinged his cheeks.

 

Greg thought over what he just said and almost choked on his drink. He hurried to clarify, “Uhm, what I meant to say was that I haven’t eaten since lunch and I’m afraid this scotch has gone to my head so I apologise for my own informality. Although we’ve know each other a long time now Mycroft, I think we should be able to consider each other a friend.”

 

Mycroft looked shocked and Greg hoped he hadn’t overstepped. “If that’s not to presumptuous of me to say.” Greg hoped Mycroft would not shoot down his attempts to alter their relationship. He really hoped that maybe one day they could move from friendship to something else. He knew that maybe he had a chance if John hadn’t been lying at Christmas time, he’d been hanging around Sherlock for too long so it was possible.

 

Mycroft managed to maintain his composure and cleared his throat. “Yes. Yes, friends would be most amiable.”

 

Greg grinned at him and to his surprised Mycroft smiled back and raised his glass. “Another?”

“Cheers.” Greg handed over his glass and in like every cheesy movie you’ve ever seen, his and Mycroft’s fingers brushed and Greg felt his heartbeat speed up. He thought he saw a similar reaction reflected in Mycroft’s eyes but he quickly turned away and fetched them another scotch.

 

                   ~~~~~~~~~

Greg stood at his front door and patted down all of his pockets. Shit. Shit, he’d left his jacket back at Mycroft’s office. And his jacket contained his keys.

 

He tried his neighbour first to see if they could phone the super but with no luck he had to drudge all the way back to Mycroft’s office. He’d had another two drinks after the ‘incident’ and Mycroft was careful not to touch him again when handing over the drink or he simply placed it on the table. Greg didn’t want to go back. The longer the two of them sat and talked the more he realised that Mycroft only wanted friendship at the bare minimum and not a relationship.

 

Still, Greg would take what he could get because that man was an absolute mystery.It was too late to attempt the tube in his inebriated state, he had walked from Mycroft’s earlier thinking fresh air would clear his head, so he hailed a cab and arrived back at Mycroft’s office building.

 

Because it was so late there wasn’t many staff left and most of the office was quiet and empty. Even Anthea had her bag and jacket and was ready to leave, she looked surprised to see Greg again.

 

“Hi Anthea, I left my jacket and keys here earlier. Do you mind if I just pop in to grab them.”

 

Anthea smiles, “No worries Detective, Mr Holmes is still in his office. I was just about to head off, I’ll see you next time.”

Anthea put her jacket on and headed for the lift. Greg knocked on Mycrofts door before he entered but it apparently wasn’t enough time for Mycroft to compose himself. He looked more exhausted than he did earlier.

 

“Mycroft?” Greg approached him slowly, “Are you okay?”

Mycroft managed to compose himself slightly but Greg could see the mask was thinly veiled and that he had no more energy to make an effort to conceal his exhaustion.

 

“Fine thank you, Detective.” Mycroft got up and walked over to pour himself another scotch, it looked like he’d had another one or two after Greg had left.

 

Greg sighed and walked over to Mycroft’s desk, leaning on the edge. “What did I say Mycroft, call me Greg. We’re friends.”

 

Mycroft’s hand were shaking as he poured himself another drink. He took a sip before turning to face Greg.

 

“What is it I can help you with Gregory?”

“Forgot my jacket and keys. Couldn’t get into my flat.”

Mycroft nodded. “I had told Anthea and she was going to drop them off to you on her way home but since you are here it will save her a trip.”

 

“Yeh, just came to grab them but if you need to talk Mycroft, I’m here, I will listen. I understand there are some things I can’t know for security purposes but if it’s about Sherlock then I know basically everything anyway.”

Mycroft looked thoughtful but declined to talk.

 

He offered Greg another drink but Greg said he’d better be in his way.

 

Greg didn’t really want to leave Mycroft in this state, something was clearly bothering him but it wasn’t up to Greg to interfere if Mycroft didn’t want him too. Mycroft was always so together but in the last few hours Greg had seen Mycroft more stressed and more unlike himself than ever. It even looked like he was sweating but Greg dismissed that because sweating wasn’t something that Mycroft Holmes did.

 

Greg made it all the way to the lift and the doors were about to close when he realised he had left his jacket, again. He slipped through the doors and made his way back to Mycroft’s office.

 

Where he found Mycroft, leaning over his desk, hyperventilating.

 

 

Greg panicked. His first thought was that Mycroft was having a heart attack. Mycroft must not have heard him come in because he was shaking and just staring down at his desk with a faraway look.

 

 

“Mycroft! Mycroft just breathe, deep breaths.” Greg had crossed the room before he even realised and was gently rubbing circle in Mycroft’s back. “I think you’re having a panic attack. Close you’re eyes and just breathe. In and out. With me, in and out, that’s good.”

 

After a bit Mycroft had managed to slow down his hyperventilating but was still very shaky. Greg tried to use soothing words to calm him down.

“I can’t breathe.” Mycroft tried to pull his collar undone, he had loosened his tie earlier.

 

“Hold on, I’ll do it.” Greg managed to sit Mycroft back down in his chair and unbutton the first few button on his shirt.

“Just breathe. In, and out. Good, there you go Mycroft.” Greg said, slowly rubbing his arm.

 

Greg knelt down beside his chair and was slowly rubbing his hand up and down his leg as well. “You’re okay, just breathe.”

They sat in silence other than Greg’s reassurances while Mycroft’s breathing slowed down.

 

After a while Mycroft began to tense up again and Greg knew it was from the closeness they now shared. Mycroft wasn’t used to this type of touch or intimacy and Greg finally realised that if they were going to have a relationship that he would have to make the first move.

But now was not the time to think about that, he had to help Mycroft relax and compose himself.

 

“Mycroft.” Greg said softly, “How are you feeling now? Better?”

Mycroft still had his eyes closed but he nodded.

“I’ll get you a drink of water. Just stay here and focus on your breathing.”

 

Greg walked out and found a fridge with bottled water behind Anthea’s desk and grabbed two. He handed one to Mycroft who almost gulped it down.

 

 

Greg leaned against Mycroft’s desk as he drank his own water. He looked at Mycroft with contemplation.

 

“So, do you want to tell me what that was about? Because honestly Mycroft I’ve barely seen you even smile and here you are having a panic attack.”

 

Mycroft finally looked up at Greg but looked away fairly quick.

 

“I used to have them when I was younger. Before I learned how to control my thoughts, and emotions. Sometimes it would get too much, to many thoughts in my head and I would panic. Only my mother knows and Sherlock only saw the tail end of one once but mother convinced him I was just ill.”

 

“That’s got to be hard to live with.”

 

“No so much anymore. I’ve found ways to adapt and overcome it. It’s been years since my last episode.”

 

Greg just looked at him. “Doesn’t look like you’ve got it under control. I know we’vehad a rough couple of months but if you were struggling Mycroft, you could’ve talked to someone. You could’ve talked to me.” 

 

Mycroft looked over to him, “I am usually able to cope but I had a stressful day to say the least and a bit too much scotch, I haven’t been myself.”

“Okay, if you’re sure Mycroft. I am here though, if you need someone to talk to.”

 

Mycroft nodded and they sat in silence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya,  
> Sorry about the wait. It’s just I have such a hard time writing these scenes but I just busted this one out so I can move the story along.  
> Hope it’s ok. 
> 
> Xxxx

 

“I hate to ask this now, especially after your panic attack, but have you heard anything about John. About retrieving him from Syria.”

 

Mycroft just looked up at Greg, shaking his head.

He couldn’t tell him. It’s wasn’t just a matter of national security, it was that if Greg knew and the mission failed that Mycroft wouldn’t know how to console him after losing John a second time.

 

No. It was better this way.

 

“Right. I’ll head off then if you’re all good now. Yeh?”

Mycroft didn’t really want Greg to leave but it was late and they both probably had things to do the next day.

 

Mycroft nodded.

“Yes. Thank you Gregory. Your help today has been most kind. And if you would be so inclined as to keep it between the two of us that would be much appreciated.”

 

“Yeh absolutely Mycroft. I would never discuss you’re personal life with anyone. Especially your brother. If that’s what you we’re worried about.”

Mycroft just nods and they sit in comfortable silence for a while longer.

 

“I should head off then. If you’re going to be alright?”

“Yes. Perfectly fine. Thank you Gregory. I’ll walk you out.”

 

Mycroft is already half way across the room before Greg can protest.

Mycroft opens his office door for Greg while he grabs his coat. While putting on his coat Greg manages to drop his keys on the floor. Mycroft hears the word that sounds like ‘bugger’ mumbled under Greg’s breath.

 

“I’ll get them.” Mycroft hears himself says and before he can think, he bends to retrieve them.

 

When he rights himself, he is standing directly in front of Greg.

Without thinking, he inhales.

He’s never been this close to Greg before and if Mycroft is being honest, he likes it. He can feel the heat radiating from Greg’s body and can feel Greg’s breath on his cheek. If he just leaned in just so, he would be able to......

 

No. No Mycroft. Get a hold of yourself.

 

When he finally looks at Greg, he discovers his pupil have dialated. And if he’s being honest, they mirror his own.

 

“I should, umm, I should go now.” Greg’s voice sounds dry and husky. Mycroft just nods but neither of them move.

They just stare at each other. For seconds, minutes, Mycroft can’t be sure. Neither of them move.

 

Mycroft tilts his head slightly and leans in and suddenly Greg’s mouth is lightly pressed on his own. The pressure is only slight, like Greg is waiting for something. A response. Asking for permission.

 

Mycroft returns the kiss and suddenly Greg is gripping his waist and pulling him against himself. Mycroft lets go of the door handle and Greg pushes him against it.

Mycroft can’t think. He doesn’t know whats happening or why.

 

He’s had a few to drinks and clearly he’s emotional after his panic attack and that’s all this is. Greg is just being a comfort to him.

 

Well, it definitely doesn’t feel like Greg is only trying to comfort him when he attaches his lips to Mycroft’s neck and starts to unbutton his waistcoat. And when he’s done with that he moves onto his shirt.

Mycroft is breathing heavily and he knows he wants this, wants Greg. But his brain is still processing and he’s just gripping Greg’s hips and going along for the ride. 

 

Greg slowly kisses his way back up his neck towards his mouth and Mycroft finally moves. He slowly starts to unbutton Greg’s shirt.

Clearly feeling Mycroft’s apprehension, Greg hums encouragement against his lips while his own hands move from Mycroft’s hips around to his back. 

Mycroft finally makes it to the last button and slowly drags his hands back up Greg’s chest. God it’s been so long since he’s been with someone and the fact he’s doing this with Greg is unbelievable. 

 

Greg manages to slip his knee between Mycroft’s legs and it makes him moan with want. Greg somehow manages to kiss him harder and they become frantic.

Suddenly with a surge of confidence his hands slide further south to Greg’s belt buckle and begin to undo it. It’s Greg’s turn to moan this time as Mycroft swiftly moves into his trousers.

 

 

Suddenly, interrupting them, the desk phone rings.

 

Greg detaches his lips from Mycroft’s and let’s him go. Mycroft has to give himself a second to collect himself before he can walk back to his desk to answer the call. His legs feel like jelly.

 

It’s only Anthea on the line.

 

“Sir. The security have let me know you are still in the office and advised me to call you. It’s late and we do have a early meeting. Would you like me to call your car around now?”

 

Mycroft clears his throat.

 

“Umm, yes please Anthea. I got caught up with something,” Mycroft looks over to Greg who isnearly finished buttoning his shirt, prompting Mycroft to do his own, and retrieving his jacket from the floor. “Would you please call a second car for DCI Lestrade. We were, discussing, some details about my brother and I’m afraid time got away from us.”

 

Mycroft doesn’t know how but he swears he can hear Anthea smiling through the phone. “Of course sir. The cars will be there momentarily.”

Mycroft placed the phone back on the receiver and took a moment to compose himself, doing up his waistcoat and running his hands through his hair before turning back to Greg.

 

They had both managed to make themselves presentable so the only evidence of what had just transpired between them was their flushed cheeks, dialateted pupils and a deepening bruise on Mycroft’s neck that Greg had managed to mark him with.

 

“There is a car downstairs, it will take you home. I apologise for my indiscretion Gregory. I hope you can forgive me, I’ve had a trying day and far to much of my favourite scotch.”

He walks back to the door and opens it gesturing. “As I said, a car will take you home. Once again I apologise.”

 

Greg looks like he’s torn. Like he wants to go and he wants to stay. In the end he looks away and just mumbles, “Yeh sure Mycroft. I’ll be on my way then. Just keep me informed about John though aye.” Then he’s gone.

 

Mycroft watches the elevator doors shut and walks back to his desk.

Almost collapsing into his chair, he puts his head in his hands.

 

God. What has just happened? What does he do about it? Will Gregory tell anyone? Oh god he hopes Sherlock doesn’t notice. He’ll deduce it immediately and that won’t be a fun conversation for Mycroft.

His phone rings again pulling him out of his thoughts. The drive of his car has been waiting ten minutes and Anthea insists he get home as it’s been a long day. 

During the entire car ride home what transpired between him and Gregory plays on a loop. He’s so confused. Now he’s had time to think he doesn’t know what he wants. Or if he should want anything. He’s such a mess. His life is such a mess. He has too many problems to worry about something as trivial as feelings and relationships.

 

Mycroft just stares out his window and evaluates every possible scenario and only comes up with one with positive outcome. He and Greg will have a brief conversation and move on. It’s not in anyone’s best interests to dwell on the events and he’ll just blame them on emotions. No, it’s for the best really, he can’t be having feelings for Gregory. That would be really inconvenient.

 

Stupid, inconvenient emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps: Also I have once again posted without first sending to my beta which I will start sending things to her again soon. I’m sorry. I’ve got some more free time in the next couple of weeks so I’m hoping to have a few more chapters and that you’ll stick with me. 
> 
> Thanks everyone. Xoxox


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya,  
> Back again after a loooong break.  
> Sorry,  
> Hope everyone had a great Christmas and wonderful New year. 
> 
> I’ve already written the next two chapters so I’ll be updating regularly this week probably. 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me. There’s still a journey to go. 
> 
> Xxxx

It had been a week.

A week and he hadn’t heard from Mycroft.

He’d gone home after what happened in Mycroft’s office and went straight to bed. Thinking about it was a problem for the next day.

 And now it had past the next day, it had past seven days and Greg was confused.

 He didn’t want to assume anything or make a decision without speaking to Mycroft first.

 

He didn’t know how Mycroft felt about the kiss. It could’ve just been a reflex of the outpouring of emotions after his panic attack and Greg was okay with that. He was glad he could help his friend that day and if Mycroft just needed comfort then he was alright with that.

But if was being honest with himself, he wanted more. He wanted Mycroft. God he’d wanted Mycroft for so long and now he’d had a taste he didn’t think he ever wanted to give him up. What had happened at least proved that Mycroft had some sort of feelings for him. Romantic or friendly he didn’t care. It was nice to see one Holmes with actual feelings.

 

He needed to call Mycroft or just go over to his office after work. They needed to at least acknowledge what happened and decided on a course of action.He’d given Mycroft a week and nothing. So it was time Greg took things into his own hands.

 

When he had finished for the day he made his way to Mycroft’s office and Anthea told him to wait as he had a meeting. Greg should stop feeling surprised when Sherlock walks out of Mycroft’s office in only his pyjamas. And when Harriet Watson followed, Greg didn’t even know what to say to either of them.

 

“Oh Gavin. Date night is it? My brother has been distracted all afternoon and I assume that’s your fault.”

 Greg looked alarmed, face turning red when Mycroft emerged from the room behind Harry.

“What? N-No.” Greg stuttered.

“Don’t take any notice of Sherlock, he’s just upset at the moment. We’ve been discussing John this afternoon, you know how difficult that must be for him.” Mycroft retorted smoothly looking over at him.

 A week hadn’t done anything to dispel the tension between them and Greg honestly feels a strong pull to be near Mycroft. And honestly he thought he saw the same feelings reflected in Mycroft’s eyes.

 

“Well, I’ll excuse myself from whatever mess this is and head home. I ‘spose Gavin? here should be aware of the plans because he and and my brother were friends. Also we agreed to no funeral and needing 12 months to confirm death from active duty. Correct?”

Harriet was adamant about this.

 

“Gregory. And yes, your terms are acceptable.” Mycroft agreed.

She shakes Greg’s hand and just leaves, waving at Anthea on her way out.The three just stare after her before Sherlock finally speaks.

 

“I’m alright with it by the way.” Both Mycroft and Greg look at Sherlock confused. “The two of you. I wish I’d told John how I felt sooner so we could’ve had more time before he di-, before he left. You never know what could happen in a few months, Mycroft could be assassinated if he continues to provoke Czechoslovakia as he has the last few months or Greg could be shot during a case.”

Mycroft just looks annoyed and Greg is turning even redder.

 “Anyway, Mrs Hudson needed me for something this afternoon so I shall return to Baker Street. I’ll speak to you tommrow brother. Goodbye.” 

 

Then he was off with his coattails flapping behind him.

 

Mycroft cleared his throat turning to Greg.“Would you care to wait for me in my office? I need to speak to Anthea.”

“Yeh sure.” Greg ambled over to Mycroft’s office and took a seat. He’d never been in Mycroft’s office alone before and it was as intimidating without him as it was with him in it. His mind kept wandering back to the last time he was in this office.

 

It didn’t take long for Mycroft to join him.

“Would you like a drink?” Mycroft motioned to his decanter.

“No thanks Mycroft.”

 

Then there was nothing, silence. And avoiding eye contact.

Mycroft finally got fed up with the silence first.

“So Gregory, were you here about Sherlock? Or work perhaps?”

 

Greg shook his head. Just do it Greg. He picked up his gaze and looked Mycroft directly in the eye. He was good at this stuff, usually. He hoped the old Lestrade charm would still work it’s magic. 

“No Mycroft. I came to ask if you would like to go to dinner with me. This weekend.” He said firmly and with confidence, never wavering in his eye contact.

 It was Mycroft who was caught unaware and looked shocked. He had to ask Greg to repeat himself.

 Greg just grinned, he’d unsettled Mycroft. Out of everything he expected Greg to say, it certainly wasn’t to ask him to dinner.

 

“Would you like to go to Dinner with me, this weekend?”

Mycroft just stared as Greg could see the cogs in his brain turning. Greg was concerned that he had broken him.

Still looking quite shocked Mycroft finally replied, “Dinner? yes I’m free Saturday evening.”

Greg grinned. “Fantastic, I would suggest somewhere but I’m sure you have a list of vetted restaurants that you can go to. I’ll just ring you tommrow for the details. 8 o’clock Saturday alright?”

“Yes, 8pm is suitable.”

 

Greg was pretty sure, from his reaction, that Mycroft had never been asked out on a date before. He quite liked being the only person confident enough to ask out Mycroft Holmes.

“Alright, I’m off then. I’ll call you tommrow.” Greg jumped up from his chair, grabbed his jacket and headed out the door leaving a very bewildered Mycroft in his wake.

 

He was happy he’d finally done something about his feelings for Mycroft. It had become apparent even from that encounter that Mycroft himself would never make the first move. He just hoped that Mycroft wanted the same as him.

And Greg was fine doing all the work, as long as he got to spend more time with Mycroft. He wouldn’t rush him and would take things as slow as Mycroft needed. He was sure Mycroft was the person he needed in his life and hoped Mycroft wanted him in his as well.

 

He was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ps: Also once again posted without my Beta. 
> 
> I’m sorrry. Xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT I AM SO SORRY I SWEAR I THOUGHT I POSTED THIS.
> 
>  
> 
> Please stay with me I promise it’ll start getting more interesting. I have the whole story planned out but I’m just honestly the best procrastinator in the world I swear. 
> 
> If you’re still with me or a new reader, thank you so much for reading and I hope you’ll enjoy this story. 
> 
> Xxx Cami :)

Mycroft was partially in shock even the next day. No one had ever asked him on a date. He didn’t realise Gregory was interested in a romantic relationship with him. He thought if anything he was probably just after sex. Usually people propositioned him or just stayed away all together but never once had someone actually asked him to dinner. 

 

His meeting with the German ambassador was an absolute shambles the next morning and he was ashamed to say he was too busy imagining his date that when the ambassador asked him a simple question he wasn’t even listening. He just stared at him blankly until Anthea answered for him.

 

They ended the meeting early under the guise of Mycroft being ill. He hated this excuse as his enemies and friends alike saw being ill as a weakness and would use the opportunity to pounce but luckily the German Ambassador wasn’t in any position to undermine the British government.

 

Finally, when they were in the car on the way to his office, he told Anthea what the real problem was and her squeal of excitement was quickly followed by an apology. She did remind him he had a conference call on Saturday night which he had completely forgotten about. She managed to shuffle everything around because “Sir, if you don’t mind me saying, you hardly ever take time to have dinner with friends and after everything that’s happening with the Captain, you deserve some time off.”

 

Mycroft agreed to this but when she suggested he clear his Sunday as well he told her not to push it. She smiled and moved appointments anyway.

 

He took an extended lunch to clear his mind and refocus. But suddenly Gregory was calling for a dinner venue and Mycroftpanicked and suggested the place he usually holds his informal business meetings. It wasn’t until after he had finished his salad that he remembered that the restaurant had a very strict dress code. Seeing Gregory in a suit wouldn’t be a terrible thing but could be horribly distracting.

 

He was still unsure if this was a friendly dinner or if it was actually a date. He didn’t do this very often so he had no clue what the social que was after two people accidentally kissed in an office after one has had a panic attack. He didn’t know what Gregory wanted from him and he didn’t like that. He always knew. That was his job, to evaluate situations and provide a solution.

 

But he couldn’t seem to solve this problem ..

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The rest of the week went mostly smoothly with Mycroft only being mildly distracted on occasion but suddenly it was Saturday afternoon and Anthea was calling the car to take him home.

 

His dinner was in two hours and he needed enough time to go home and get ready. He decided to meet Lestrade at his house and they could take the car over to the restaurant. He thanked Anthea and told her he would see her Monday morning but would let her know how the conference call with Tokyo on Sunday went.

 

......

 

Pulling up in front of Lestrade’s flat Mycroft was quite anxious about this dinner. He didn’t know if he should act like it was a date because that would be too presumptious or if it was just a friendly dinner. He would follow Lestrade’s lead.

 

He waited for Greg to leave his flat before emerging from his car. Greg slowed down as he came down the stairs, obviously surprised Mycroft had come to pick him up.

“I thought I was meeting you there.”

“It’s on the way, I thought it only logical.”

Greg grinned and Mycroft opened the car door for him. 

 

They made light chat on the way to the restaurant but Mycroft was mostly distracting himself from saying something about Greg’s attire. When he emerged from his flat, Mycroft noticed straight away he was wearing a new suit and even though it was nowhere the quality of his own tailored three piece, it still looked incredibly good on Greg.

 

Greg apparently saw him looking and complimented Mycroft on his own attire.

 

“Yeh well with my promotion I could afford another suit. This is actually the first time I’ve worn it ‘cause it’s meant to be a court suit but I though it was a special occasion so why not.”

.................

 

They arrived at the restaurant soon after, an Italian place Mycroft frequented for dinners with his parents when they were in town. There was ample surveillance and the owner was more than accommodating when he needed to add extra security.

They were escorted towards the back to a private table that was strategically placed so Mycroft had a perfect view of the entire restaurant. He liked to be prepared.

 

When he and Greg sat and evaluated the menu, the owner came over to greet Mycroft.

“Giovanni, this is Detective Chief Inspector Lestrade from Scotland Yard. Gregory this is Giovanni, the owner of this fine establishment.”

“Pleasure to meet you Sir, I hope your meal here is enjoyable.”

“If Mycroft’s brought me here then I’m sure it will be amazing. And it’s Greg by the way. Mycroft just likes to make me sound more important than I actually am.”

Giovanni grinned, “If Mr Holmes has brought you here, then you must be very important.” He shook both their hands and retreated to the bar.

 

Mycroft was a bit embarrassed and only managed to mumble something about bringing his family here. Like that was going to cover it up, nice job Mycroft.

When he finally looked up at Greg, he was grinning. 

“Mycroft Holmes embarrassed? We’ll have to go on another date because i find it incredibly endearing.”

Mycroft actually blushed this time causing Greg to laugh.

“We’ll order shall we.” Greg suggested, gesturing to the nearest waiter. 

 

Mycroft was completely caught of guard tonight. Greg had managed to make him, Mycroft Holmes, embarrassed. And he had confirmed this was a date so Mycroft was seriously out of his depth here, he was usually in charge of the situation. But it was kind of nice to be able to properly relax while Greg took the lead.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The staff had cleared all the tables and the main dining room was completely empty besides the two of them and some waiters preparing the tables for the next night.

 

But Greg and Mycroft we’re still there. Talking and laughing. Mycroft didn’t know how many wines he had that night, they just kept appearing. Greg had kept up with him or had a few more to be honest and they both were having a good time.

 

Mycroft was surprised at how well the evening had been going. Greg was warm and friendly and Mycroft felt relaxed and calm around him. Not to mention happy. Mycroft couldn’t remember the last time he had been this happy around another person.

 

 

He was glad that the two of them had finally taken the leap and gone on a date. Greg has called it that so Mycroft was happy to say the same.

When they finally left the restaurant, Mycroft insisted on paying for the meal even though Greg was adamant about paying his own way but Mycroft wouldn’t hear of it.

 

“I’ll get it next time then.” The blush that Mycroft had was enough to make Greg grin.

 

Greg suggested walking as his flat wasn’t that far away and Mycroft thought that a stroll in the cool air would help sober up a bit. And if it prolonged his time with Greg then that was purely a coincidence.

 

He walked Greg all the way to the door of his flat and suddenly he was following him into the flat and the door was closing behind him. Mycroft wasn’t ready for where he thought this was headed so he promptly shook Greg’s hand and went to leave. 

Greg placed a hand on his arm,

“Mycroft, I’ve had a very lovely evening tonight. Thank you.”

Mycroft turned, “Yes. I have also had a wonderful time. If it’s not too presumptuous I would suggest we do this again.”

Greg grinned, “That sounds great Mycroft.” 

“I should be going then. I’ll call to arrange another evening soon.” Mycroft went to shake Greg’s hand again but Greg just stepped closer. 

“You know, you’re not as tall as I thought you were.”

Mycroft just looked confused and Greg just huffed a laugh.

 

He leaned in and tilted his head up so their lips were only centimetres apart.

Mycroft’s breathe was caught in his throat and his heart was racing.

“Is this okay?” Greg asked looking up at Mycroft.

Mycroft breathed out a shaky “yes” and suddenly Greg’s lips were attached to his own.

 

It started soft and slow at first. But after Mycroft got over the initial shock and reciprocate Greg reached his hands to Mycroft’s shoulders. Mycroft placed his own on Greg’s hips and slightly pulled him closer.

Mycroft couldn’t know how long they stood there together but after some time Greg was pulling back and they were both breathless. 

 

“I’ve been waiting to do that all night.” Greg commented, placing another small kiss on Mycroft’s lips.

“Mmm, so have I.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”

Greg asked.

Mycroft was very tempted and after what had just transpired between them, his body certainly wanted him to stay.

“Can’t, I’m afraid. Important meeting tomorrow and it’s late as it is.”

 

He and Greg slowly let go of each other and Mycroft composes himself before stepping back to the door. 

Once he was outside again he located his driven on the street and shook Lestrade’s hand. Always kept things professional in public.

 

Mycroft was halfway to the car when he turned back to Greg, who was leaning against his door. “Maybe next time I could possibly stay.”

 

Greg grinned and Mycroft returned it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also this is un-beta’d I’m sorry.  
> I got a beta and still don’t use one.  
> I’ll try harder guys I’m sorry. Xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi,
> 
> Another chapter out which I again didn’t use my beta, sorry. But it’s here for you to read and hopefully I should be able to get a chapter out every week or 10 days now and finish this story up soonish. 
> 
> If you’re still reading or new to the fic, thank you so much, your support helps keep me motivated to write.

It had been almost two weeks since the day and it went successfully. Well, at least Mycroft thought so considering how it ended. And he didn’t often go on dates.

 

In fact his last was probably seven years ago when he was with his last partner and they only went on a first ‘date’ to discuss their partnership and what would be included in the contract. He usually opted to have short ‘flings’ with people instead of romantic entanglements. They ended easier and no one got unnecessarily hurt. The people he chose usually had the same, or more, to lose if their relationship was revealed. It was safer, not only for his position in the government, but for him. He didn’t get hurt and it helped keep up his ‘ice man’ persona.

 

But with Greg he felt differently. He enjoyed spending time with Greg even if it was just to talk business or Sherlock. He craved attention from Gregory more than he had any other person before and he was afraid this meant it would lead to more deeper romantic feelings.

 

Sighing, Mycroft rested his head on his desk.

 

 

Who was he kidding, he already had feelings for Greg. He’s always held some sort of attraction for him but the increase in time spent together helped strengthen the bond he felt. And the date proved that Gregory felt the same way and would take things as slowly as Mycroft wanted.

 

But how slow was too slow. They’d know each other for years and if he was feeling like this after one date then who knows how much he would care for Gregory in a few months. And if he denied himself happiness now when it was right in front of him, then what would his future be like. He would be married to his job and only have Anthea to spend time with.

 

He didn’t want to admit his mother was right but if he didn’t do something now then he would be alone for the rest of his life. At least Sherlock had seemed happy while John was around and maybe it was even worth the pain he was in now. 

 

They had seemed happy for the short time they were together and honestly Mycroft felt he could have that same connection with Gregory.

 

 

He pressed his call button for Anthea and when she entered he asked her to clear his sunday and to connect him with the DCI.

Anthea managed to keep a straight face until she left the room but Mycroft heard the small squeal from the other side of the door.

 

 

He stared at the phone until it rang and Anthea connected him to the DCI.

“Gregory. How would you like to join me for dinner on Saturday?”

 

 

                     ~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

Greg had decided where they would go for dinner that evening, that’s why they were in a ‘charming’ Chinese restaurant.

 

It wasn’t bad per say, but it definitely wasn’t somewhere Mycroft would frequent regularly. But at least the company was enjoyable and the food was nice.

 

He and Greg had once again spent the evening enjoying each other’s company and Mycroft felt relaxed and at ease with him. He’d made the right decision inviting Greg on this second date and it seemed to be going as well as the first, better even.

 

 

Mycroft was nervous even thought it was going well but he was also focused on some work things. He had just approved a mission. The mission. To retrieve John. He didn’t know if you should tell Greg despite his lack of clearance.

 

If this thing between the two of them went further he didn’t want to start a potential relationship lying to Greg. Or at least not telling him the truth about one of his best friends. He decided that if Greg asked he would tell him but if he didn’t then he would keep the information to himself. That way he didn’t technically lie.

 

 

He also didn’t know how Greg expected the night to end after the comment from their previous date. He knew Greg wouldn’t rush him, that’s part of why he was so attracted to Greg.

 

“So, how’s work? I know you can’t say anything much but I’m here if you need someone to listen.” Greg asked as the waiter took away their empty dishes.

 

“Yes well, work is the same really. Nothing really to talk about. Nothing that I can talk about. But thank you for the offer.” Mycroft felt bad but technically he hadn’t asked about John so he wasn’t lying. That’s what he tried to tell himself anyway.

 

 

Greg made good on his promise to shout this dinner because he refused to let Mycroft pay for it this time.

 

 

                   ~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

The walk to Greg’s house was shorter than expected and Mycroft hadn’t managed to calm his nerves.

 

He really wanted to take this next step with Greg. Mostly because every time they were in the same room he wanted to tear Greg’s clothes off and maybe if he actually did that then his imagination would stop running away with him in meetings.

 

Greg unlocked the door and and invited him in. Took his jacket at the door and herded him towards the kitchen.

Greg started flitting about making tea and rambling about this blend he’d found at the markets. Mycroft sat himself on the one of the stools at the bench.

 

 

While Greg was putting the leaves in the infuser Mycroft realised that Greg was nervous as well. He’d been so worried about his own anxiety that he hasn’t even noticed how Greg was feeling. Usually he’s very good at reading people emotions but he had completely ignored Greg’s tonight.

 

He recalled in his mind when they arrived at Greg’s stoop and he had looked at Mycroft questioningly but when he received a blank look he just continued up the steps to his front door.

 

He knew they both wanted this but since Greg’s marriage had only ended a little over a year ago he hadn’t even thought about whether Greg was ready to move forward. To move forward with him in this new thing they were embarking on.

 

“Greg.”

He stopped making tea immediately and turned to face Mycroft. Mycroft got off the stool and walked to Greg. He softly took his hands and gazed down at him.

 

“Yes Mycroft.”

 

“If this is too soon after your wife to be entering into something like this then we can take our time. If a relationship is not something you want or if it’s too soon just let me know and I won’t be offended.”

 

“No Mycroft that’s not it. I want this, want to be with you. Want a proper relationship with you, It’s just,” Greg sighed, “right if I tell you this promise you won’t laugh?”

 

“I promise I won’t laugh.”

Greg looked at him like he didn’t fully believe him but Mycroft squeezed his hands reassuringly and Greg continued.

 

“It’s been a while. Since I was intimate with anyone. Since I’ve been intimate worth a man especially, since before I married Sharon. Sharon and I hadn’t been happy for a long time but I never looked anywhere else because I was a faithful husband. And afterwards I just didn’t have the time and just couldn’t be bothered. And I was also a bit infatuated with you to be honest.” Greg shook his head and huffed a laugh, “God that’s so embarrassing, sorry.”

 

“No Gregory, don’t apologise and don’t feel embarrassed. I feel the exact same way. It’s been ages, years even since I was intimate last. Given my current position it was just hard to meet someone who understood my situation and who wouldn’t use my sexual orientation against me. And I was also a bit infatuated with a stubborn Detective Inspector.”

 

“That’s Detective Chief Inspector to you now.” Greg grinned. “God Mycroft that’s such a relief to here you say that. I was so stressed out that I wouldn’t be good enough and I wanted to be perfect for you.”

 

Mycroft leant down and kissed Greg warmly. “You are perfect for me.”

 

Greg laughed, “That’s so cheesy Mycroft.”

 

Mycroft laughed as well, “My apologies, my flirting is a bit rusty.”

 

Greg smiled and Mycroft leant down for another kiss which was returned eagerly.

The kisses began to get less chaste and more heated. Mycroft somehow managed to lift Gregory onto the counter and kissed him deeply.

 

The screaming of the kettle broke them apart and Greg had to readjust himself when he turned the kettle off.

 

He set about finishing the tea but Mycroft came behind him and slipped his arms around his waist, whispering in his ear, “Take me to bed Gregory.”

 

The tea forgotten as they scrambled up the stairs.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When he blinked his eyes open, at first Mycroft felt disoriented. He wasn’t in his own bed or own home and was very concerned until the events of last night started playing in his mind.

 

Greg. He and Greg had finally decided that they were going to give a relationship a try and taken the next step with intimacy. Mycroft was very weary the night before as it had been a while since his last encounter of this kind but Greg was kind and respectful and took things slowly. But after a while Mycroft loosened up and well, Mycroft had never experienced what he and Greg had together with anyone else before.

 

Hearing Mycroft stir must have woken Greg, who rolled over and grinned at Mycroft.

 

“Morning Mycroft.” Greg’s voice still heavy from sleep.

 

“Good morning Gregory.”

“No regrets from last night?” Greg sounded slightly worried about the answer but Mycroft reassured him with a quick kiss.

 

Greg quickly returned it but pulled apart complaining about bad breathe and needing a shower. Mycroft understood after last nights activities and just sat comfortably watching Greg retreat naked to the bathroom.

 

Just in time to ruin basking in his post coital glow was a beep from his phone. Searching his trouser pockets he retrieved his phone and opened the text.

 

‘Mission Dune beach successful , package retrieved.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeh so,
> 
> This chapter ended up sappy instead of sexy, which I can’t write anyway, but at least it’s mostly finished. I will update the chapter in the future with the explicit scenes from after the forgotten tea. Those scenes just take me ages and then I get stuck and have writers block and then no more chapters get posted so skipping for now but will return later. 
> 
> Thx.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again.
> 
> I don’t need sleep so here have a new chapter. Short chapter but it’s gonna pick up from here now. Plz read the warning below.
> 
> Thx for reading :)
> 
>  
> 
> WARNING!
> 
> (This chapter contains imagery of bodily harm and violence.  
> The chapter also has references to Terrorism.) 
> 
> -Due to the events that have recently taken place in NZ I thought it would be best to warn and update tags in case this content is triggering for some readers. 
> 
> \- If you wish to skip or not read the parts that contains this content please stop reading after ‘Mycroft presses play on the video.’ Then you can resume for the last sentence of the chapter. 
> 
> I apologise if this content is upsetting to anyone and will try my hardest to update tags so readers can better understand the content of this fic.
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> Thank you. <3
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> Thoughts and Prayers to the victims of the New Zealand Terrorist Attack.

__Mycroft was at a crossroads.

 

His relationship with Greg had been moving at a steady pace since their second date. He added Greg’s name to the list of allowed visitors in his town house, his office and the Diogenes.

 

He even had Greg given extra surveillance, now that he was more important in his life, not because he doubted Greg’s ability to protect himself but just so Mycroft had peace of mind about his safety.

 

 

And all of this was a problem. Because he had been working on Project Kurtarmak with the Turkish ambassador since they had received the information about John from the team stationed in turkey.

 

The bodies they recovered had been very similar, almost identical, to John and his unit. Down to their hair and eye colour everything was almost perfect and would look like the intended people to the untrained eye. Except the body that was supposedly John’s was half an inch too tall and the bullet wound wasn’t in the right spot and had been put there post-mortem.

 

 

The files Mycroft had received would trick even the very best detective but luckily Mycroft payed specific attention to detail and knew John personally so he had an advantage. After he and Anthea sat for hours combing through the images they had both come to the the same conclusions, that this was in fact not John and his unit. Giving Mycroft hope that they could be alive.

 

 

So they had started on Project Kurtarmak almost immediately. He sent more teams to the Turkish border and had begun working with some of the Military’s special forces. He knew that if the intel he would soon receive from an intelligence officer was correct, then he could in fact give the go signal to the project. He needed to tighten the gears on this project and make sure there was no leaks at all so this operation could run smoothly.

 

 

And if he was successful he could finally stop lying to Greg. He hated it. He never had a problem lying to Sherlock and his parents but every time he was around Greg recently he felt sick and the urge to tell him everything. Was this what being in a relationship was like? Wanting to tell your significant other every little thing about your day, big or small.

 

Mycroft’s days seem to be the former most often than not and he just really wanted to share these things with Greg. He had even spoken to Anthea about seeing if they could update Greg’s clearance level and even with his promotion he still couldn’t tell him as much as he wanted to.

 

 

 

He was stuck. He didn’t know what to do. Their relationship was steady but was also maturing into something serious. And he really didn’t want to start this chapter of his life with Greg by lying to him.

 

He was just happy to be moving forward with Greg and enjoy their relationship as much as he could.

 

 

 

~~~~~~~~

 

Months he worked on Project Kurtarmak. Months he worked on his relationship with Greg. 

Both were going surprisingly well. Unsettling well.

 

They had only come across one problem with the project but he had people working on the location of the particular cell they believed had attacked John’s unit. And once they had that location they could send someone to infiltrate to gather information on John’s whereabouts. They had to find out whether he was still alive as a prisoner or if he was indeed deceased but they wanted to keep his body for some reason.

 

 

Once this was all over he could finally tell Greg everything, well, most things.

 

 

Greg and he had been, experimenting, in their relationship and he had even given Greg a key to his townhouse now. They were doing really well. He loved spending time with Greg. Even just lounging around the house on Sundays he now actually took off work.

 

He was sure that he could possibly be in love with Greg and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. He decided he was going to ask Greg to move in with him. He basically spent most nights at Mycroft’s anyway so it would just be more economical. And Mycroft wanted him to live there with him.

 

 

He looked up from his paperwork when his phone buzzed.

Ffftrttttr

 

‘Can’t wait to see you tonight.’

 

Mycroft smiled. He was happier than he had been in years. He’d finally found someone to share his life with.

 

He sent back a reply and got stuck into the paperwork so he could leave on time this evening.

 

~~~~~~~

 

It was almost time to leave when Anthea burst into his office and rushed over to his desk.

 

“I’m sorry for the intrusion sir but you really need to see this.”

 

She handed him the tablet.

 

“This was uploaded to YouTube two minutes ago and I’ve already had it taken down but it will undoubtedly turn up again on a different platform. I thought you better see it so we can prepare a statement, and you can have time to tell your brother.”

 

Mycroft presses play on the video.

 

 

A man stood in a dark, concrete room with a gun. He was clearly a part of the extremist group in Syria. And next to him sat a figure in a chair.

 

The figure was thin, and haggered looking. He had clearly been beaten and mistreated and clearly didn’t have the energy to hold his head up, Mycroft had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

The other man was speaking and Mycroft was automatically translating in his mind.

 

“We have your soldiers. We will keep them unless you remove all from our country. You have two weeks before one dies.”

 

Out of the shot a paper was shoved into the seated man’s hand. The camera zoomed in to show yesterday’s date and the mans head was pulled up to show his face. Even with a raggedy beard and longer hair, Mycroft knew this man anywhere.

 

John Watson was alive.


End file.
